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Mason looked at him steadily for a few moments, then grinned. Cowls suburban palace was quiet tonight. Or so Devine thought as he sat on his bike and surveyed the place with a pair of night optics hed brought back from the war. He figured the Army owed him that. Lights were on, people were moving around inside, and there were a couple of normal cars in the front, meaning a BMW Eight Series and a Maserati convertible. You could have bought at least ten of them each for the cash Cowl had dropped on the Bugatti. He saw nothing. The abrupt end to the music startled enough people that Mae didnt have to shout for attention anymore. He can identify this woman? Mason asked. She said it might be worth going to see. That I might want to check it out. for the loan of the farm A bleeding foot would have left a whole lot of smudges and smears. Something was wrong with the picture. At first my mind merely registered a vague uneasiness. Then I began to think about it, and it suddenly dawned on me that if the dog had stepped in a pool of blood and then been put back in the closet, those bloody smears would be in keeping with the picture—otherwise they simply didnt fit into the pattern of events. Youre not sure? I guess so. How do you get along with the dog? Money laundering, probably. For example, your buddy Putin and his friends have dirty money to get rid of. Money they steal from the Russian people. Right? I dont think youd have any problem taking care of yourself, thought Devine. My wife thinks chickens are dumb. Theres a man down the road who raises them. He trades us dressed hens and eggs for honey and butter and trout, but we make him catch his own. Trout, I mean. When I got home the dogs were glad to see me and so were the cats. The peacocks and the ducks didnt care whether I came home or not. I had named all of the dogs Old Blue, regardless of their color, breed, and size. They didnt seem to mind. The cats, with the exception of Honest Tuan, the Siamese, were all called Fluff. They didnt seem to mind either. They didn’t even mind when I called them kitty, which is what I usually did. Apparently, he hasnt returned from lunch yet, Mason said casually. Oh well, well call Mrs. Roxy Claffin. I dont see why youre stuck with her, Della Street said. After all, you … If I didnt know better, the Candidate said, Id say that some of those nuts out at the CIA are up to their old tricks. Get out, Henry said as I approached the bar. The firm has various divisions, and the comp and profit sharing are split differently depending on which camp you fall into. Partners on the very low end get mid — seven figures. People like Bradley Cowl? Maybe a quarter of a billion or more per year in official comp and stock options. He alsogets percentages of all the profit streams, so that goes on top of his base..